2012-65: Cake of Revelations

The suburbs never let me down on the hate front. Hate coming out. Hate going in. The hate coming out is usually the more serious type. Por ejemplo, dude shooting up a Sikh temple in the suburbs of Milwaukee. Of course that sort of white supremacy festers in the white-flight suburbs. How you gonna raise a family telling them, “Well, we moved out here to drollsville, because it’s just more our style.” Which is code for “it’s just whiter,” which essensially means we don’t care to live next to people unlike us.

I get that, I also know I don’t want to live out there. Exurbers can have that zone, but you can’t complain when your kid grows up to be a hatecrimer or a mountain lion eats your gramma. You brought that shit on yourself.

Then again I’m a hypocrite, so I also choo-choo-choose to hate the suburbs. Though my hate tends to be much more lighthearted. I hate the ultra wide streets with no bike lane, the lack of dingy bars, and fucking massive convenience stores.

You know what else I hate? The free time exurbers have to come up with reveal cakes. That is some shit. You’re gonna learn the gender of your fetus by having it delivered to you as a surprise in the form of cake? Ridiculousity.

Or is it? I mean cake kinda makes everything better, right? Plus, if it’s a public event you gotta keep your cool when you discover things. I might start using reveal cakes to break news to my friends, enemies and family.

Following the tradition of reveal cakes, all cakes will be covered in white frosting, and the color of the cake is code for the revelation: blue cake means a boy and pink cake means a girl. Here are some other options: